


you're giving me such a rush

by humanluke



Series: slutty scholar au [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Slut Luke Hemmings, luke sleeps with all of his friends, they are all PHD candidates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:21:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29277639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanluke/pseuds/humanluke
Summary: luke hemmings and calum hood keep running into each other.ORthe 5 times luke and calum run into each other accidentally, and one one time they do it on purpose.
Relationships: Luke Hemmings/Ashton Irwin, Luke Hemmings/Calum Hood, Michael Clifford/Luke Hemmings
Series: slutty scholar au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2153763
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	you're giving me such a rush

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy oh boy am i excited to share this with you! this au has been cooking in my head for approximately 98 hours and i am so glad to be here!!!!
> 
> first things first, a big big thank you to my wife [brooke](http://blackbutterfliescal.tumblr.com) for helping me brainstorm this idea. it literally would not have come to fruition if it was not for you. secondly, a thank you to [molly](http://staticsounds.tumblr.com) for being mine (and slutty luke's) biggest cheerleader while i write this. you are a treasure and i love you to bits. thirdly, a thank you to [bella](http://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com) for helping me come up with a title i love u my child 
> 
> title comes from holly would you turn me on by all time low!
> 
> happy reading!

1)

Luke was going to be late, and his professors were going to absolutely kill him. 

He knew he shouldn’t have started fooling around with Ashton so close to class time, he knew better than that, but Ashton looked so cozy curled up on their couch with a copy of _The Odyssey_ in his hands, wrapped up in his big cable knit sweater. He just couldn’t resist pulling the copy out of his hands as he protested and tangling his fingers into those caramel curls, kissing him hard with a laugh as he tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth and thinks that this was a bad idea, but who cares. 

Now _he_ cares because he’s going to be late to his Advanced Literary Criticism class, and his professors are going to chew him out for it. He didn’t even have time to shove his books into his bag, really, and they’re just stacked in his arms as he makes his way from his off campus apartment towards the school, almost satisfied from his afternoon endeavors but not quite. Luckily he lives close enough to walk, but if he doesn’t walk much faster, he’s going to regret it, and he definitely looks like he tossed his clothes on before running out the door (or rolled around in them, both of which are true). 

He’s trying to attempt and open his messenger bag with one hand while he holds his books with the other, hoping to get at least a couple of them in there on the way to class. Of course, that means he isn’t necessarily paying attention to where he was going, mind you. New York City is bustling with all kinds of people hurrying to where they needed to go just as much, if not more, than Luke needed to get to his class. 

He turns the corner towards the building his class is in, still fussing with his bag and trying to get _something_ in there when his whole body hits what feels like a wall, all of his papers and books flying all over the sidewalk as he stumbles back, panicked. He looks up from the ground, readjusting his wire rimmed glasses as he sees the man he’d walked into, who looks rather annoyed and maybe like he’d been crying.

“Fuck, sorry, I didn’t mean to walk into you,” Luke manages, a little captivated by this mysterious man he isn’t sure he’s ever seen on campus before. “Wasn’t looking where I was going...” He scrambles to try to pick up his things quickly, and the other guy leans down, trying to help him by grabbing a couple of his books.

“I wasn’t looking where I was going either, ‘s alright,” he mumbles, and he sounds upset in his voice, but Luke can’t imagine he would be all that upset about walking into him. He’s fantastic to be around, a real treat, so he knows he’s not the issue here. 

“You alright? You sound upset about something,” he asks, blond curls falling into his eyes as he looks at him. The mysterious man just scoffs and shoves Luke’s books towards him, and Luke scrambles to grab them from him, seeing as though they’re library copies and he doesn’t need to get them any more messed up than they already were from the damp ground. 

“It’s nothing. Just watch where you’re going,” he huffs, standing up and shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket as he walks away. Luke turns to watch him go, blinking a little bit at the exchange, before remembering he was going to be _late for class_ and scrambling to grab the rest of his things off the sidewalk before hurrying up the stairs to the building. 

(He has to explain to his professors when he walks in 5 minutes late that he was walked into by a very rude man, but Luke always strives to be a favorite, so they just wave him off to his seat as he takes it and quietly daydreams about the mysterious sad man in the leather jacket.)

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

“I’m telling you, Mike, he was the hottest guy I’ve ever seen on campus,” Luke says, leaning against the bookcase as he looks for a specific James Joyce text that he hopes that no one else has taken out. Michael is behind him, sighing as he reshelves the returned library books, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Can you please keep it down, Luke? You know people are trying to study,” Michael says in a hushed tone, shoving a book into its empty spot on the shelf. Luke just pouts at him, going back to looking at the shelf. 

“I’d think you’d want to hear all about Hot Sad Leather Jacket Guy,” he mumbles dejectedly, letting out a surprised noise of relief as he finds the copy of _Ulysses_ on the shelf with a grin. “He definitely looked like your type, that’s for sure.” Michael rolls his eyes a little bit as he pulls the cart to the next aisle, Luke following him as he moves. 

“Luke, you think any man with two legs and a pulse is ‘my type’,” he groans, looking over at him whilst he uses air quotes. “And who looks even relatively put together. You know I don’t care about that shit. I’m just trying to get through school so I can be Dr. Clifford, Computer Scientist extraordinaire.” Luke pouts a little bit as Michael grins to himself.

“You certainly cared when I blew you last weekend after that party,” he says nonchalantly, and Michael turns red from the tips of his toes to the top of his head as he gives Luke an incredulous look. “What? Just being honest. You fucking loved every minute of it.” Michael looks flustered as he pulls the next book off of the cart, hitting Luke on the head with it gently. 

“That doesn’t mean you have to go around _broadcasting it_ to the entire fucking library!” he hisses, cheeks flushed as he places the book on the shelf. Luke pouts again, rubbing the spot that Michael hit him with as he fixes his hair. “God, Luke, you would think that I would be the one who doesn’t know how to function in public.” 

“I know how to function in public perfectly well, thank you,” Luke retorts. “I just choose not to.” He leans against the bookcase behind him as he opens up the copy of _Ulysses_ in his hands. “Anyways, the guy was terribly good-looking, Adonis-like even. But he was probably the most insolent guy I’ve ever met. The audacity of him! Doesn’t he know who I am?”

“You mean the biggest slut on campus?”

“Aw, Mike, I didn’t know you thought so highly of me!” he laughs, playfully tapping him on the head with his own book. Michael whines at him a little bit, running his sleeve covered hands over his fringe in an attempt to smooth it out. “Oh, quit fussing, babe, you still look hot.”

“Luke, are you harassing Michael again?” he hears Ashton’s voice say, and he turns to see him approaching, shaking his head a little bit. “Let the man work, for fuck’s sake. You can flirt with him later. We have a paper to work on.” Luke sighs dramatically, holding the book close to his chest. 

“Parting is such sweet sorrow, my dearest Michael,” he sighs. “You know where to find us, slaving away at my thesis statement for my dissertation.” He presses a sloppy kiss to Michael’s cheek before taking Ashton’s hand and heading back towards their table. 

“Were you telling him about the incredibly attractive but terribly ill-mannered man you met?” Ashton asked, chuckling as Luke squeezes his hand reassuringly. 

“Of course I was, I needed him to know about him in case he sees him around,” Luke shrugs. “Mike sees and hears everyone around here. If I wanna find the guy, he’s my best shot.” Ashton shakes his head a little bit, chuckling at him. 

“I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with this guy. This school is huge, you’ll probably never see him again.” Luke pouts a little bit, sliding his glasses up his nose. 

“I’m going to make him apologise for his terrible attitude towards me,” he huffs. “And then I’m going to make him fall madly in love with me, of course.” Ashton just pats Luke on the back affectionately before heading back towards their table. 

“Okay, lover boy, sure you are. Let’s get some work done.” Luke just sighs as he nods a little bit, thoughts of the rude man in the leather jacket swirling through his head as he tries to focus on his work.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

2)

Work was an absolute drag. 

Working at a bookstore had its pros and its cons, Luke thinks. As a lit major, he can appreciate the artistry of how the books look and feel and smell, and he also gets a discount, which is great for the doctorate he’s working towards. 

On the other hand, however, it was usually boring as hell. Not as many people appreciated a good book that you could hold in your hands -- they had e-readers galore that they could store hundreds of books on, and it takes up a fraction of the space. And while Luke does enjoy an e-reader (he has one himself, of course), he would much prefer to have something he can have weighing down his hands and lining his bookshelves in his home. He doesn’t want to scroll through his screen to find what he’s looking for -- he wants to stand in the bookstore, or the library, or anywhere else and have the smell of them and the sound of a page being turned. That probably turns him on more than anything else. 

It’s been a week since the encounter with the rude-yet-hot Leather Jacket Guy, and Luke’s starting to convince himself he’s made the whole thing up at this rate, thoughts of him still swirling in his brain as he goes throughout his life, trying to focus on anything else at all.

Since it’s slow, and it’s raining out, the sound of the rain sliding down over the roof of the small shop, Luke has reserved himself to shelving their new stock, which will rightfully distract him from the thoughts overtaking his brain. He’s taking his time with it, and has his earphones in, listening to an audiobook of something he needs to read for class. (He would rather read it physically, but he simply doesn’t have time for it, so this will have to do.) 

He has a large stack of books in his arms, not looking where he’s going because if there’s anything he knows, it’s the layout of this store like the back of his hands. Even before he got hired here, he spent most of his time here, buried among the shelves, just admiring the books he couldn’t afford as a poor student. 

Between the sound of the voice droning on in his ears and the stack of books in his arms, he doesn’t hear someone walk into the bookstore, nor does he see them walking down the aisle, eyes focused on their phone as they type out a text with their free hand, the other holding a coffee. 

So, inevitably, they collide, Luke almost toppling over under the weight of the books in his arms, which scatter across the aisle, and the other guy stumbles back, coffee splashing all over his shirt as he curses. 

“Mother fucker,” he exclaims, and Luke’s rubbing his head, taking an earbud out of one ear as he looks up, glasses crooked on his nose as he almost lets out an audible gasp. It’s _him_ again, the leather jacket guy, now covered in coffee and looking far more pissed off than the last time they had collided on the sidewalk. Luke straightens his glasses on his nose, and the man looks down at him, running a hand through dark curls. “You again? Really?”

“Well, I _work_ here,” Luke mumbles, trying to collect the books on the floor. There’s a copy of _A Tale of Two Cities_ sitting on the floor, splattered in coffee, and Luke groans to himself. Now he’s going to have to pay for it, because this is technically his fault. He pushes blond curls out of his eyes as he picks it up dejectedly, setting it on the nearest counter so he won’t forget where it is. He stacks the other books on the counter next to it, brushing himself off. “Sorry about your… coffee.” 

“Yeah, sure you are,” the man says, rolling his eyes. Luke is captivated once again, eyes fixated on the strangers plush mouth. “I came in here looking for a new copy of _A Brief History of Time_ , and instead got my shirt fucking ruined. Real fucking nice.” He grumbles to himself, and Luke feels a little bit bad, he does, but this very hot guy is a complete fucking asshole. 

“I can get you some paper towels if you want--”

“No, I don’t need your help with anything else,” he frowns, sighing. “What aisle is it in? The book I’m looking for.” Luke frowns a little bit, just wanting to _help_ , but he sighs a little bit. 

“It’s going to be in the back left corner of the store with the nonfiction,” he says dejectedly, picking up half of the stack of his stock so he doesn’t make the same mistake twice. “I’m pretty sure it’s ten dollars, so if you wanna just leave the payment on the counter so you don’t have to deal with me, that’s fine.” 

“Sounds great,” he says, still scowling as he makes his way to the back of the store. Luke sighs to himself as he rewinds his audiobook, having just missed a large section of it, and goes to put the rest of his books away, his mood soured by the encounter.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

“You will never believe who I ran into at the bookstore today.”

Ashton looks up over the top of his copy of _The Iliad_ , having finished _The Odyssey_ already, pushing his glasses up his nose as Luke pulls off his shoes in the doorway. He’s a little damp, having forgotten his umbrella and having to walk four blocks in the rain, and he makes his way into the kitchen to start some tea. 

“Let me guess, was it Leather Jacket Guy?” Ashton chuckles, turning his attention back to his book and turning the page. “Can you make me one too?” Luke instinctively pulls two mugs out of the cabinet, filling the electric kettle with water and turning it on to heat up as he pulls off his damp sweater to go change into something more comfortable. 

“Of course it was!” he groans, tossing his top into the hamper as he pulls off his equally damp pants and replaces them with a soft t-shirt and some comfortable sweatpants to remove the chill from his bones. “He walked right into me when I was stocking the shelves and spilled coffee all over himself and then all over a fucking copy of _A Tale of Two Cities_. So now I own a coffee stained copy of a Charles Dickens book. My only accomplishment in life.” 

“He just loves knocking things out of your arms, doesn’t he?” Ashton laughs as Luke plops himself down on the couch next to him, snuggling into his side while he waits for the water to boil. “I’m sorry that the Leather Jacket guy that you’ve been jerking off to is nothing but an asshole.” Luke pouts up at him, sighing as he rests his head on Ashton’s shoulder, reading along with him over it. 

“The fact that he’s an asshole is what makes him so appealing, Ash,” Luke whines, sliding his cold hands underneath Ashton’s warm sweater. It sends a shiver up his spine, but Luke smiles contentedly, like a cat bathing in the sunlight. “I have to make him fall in love with me. I feel like it’s my one goal for this year. Other than finishing my dissertation, of course.”

“I think one of those is more important than the other,” Ashton says, not looking up as he turns the page. “Your hands are absolutely freezing, Luke. You’re going to give me hypothermia.” 

“Shh, I’m stealing your warmth away, like a witch.” Ashton laughs a little bit, and Luke smiles at the way he can feel it on his fingertips through Ashton’s skin. 

“I think what you need is more than three hours of sleep,” he offers. “There’s no classes tomorrow, why don’t you have your tea and go to bed?” Luke hums in response, eyes closed as he leans up against him. “I know for a fact you only have one paper due tomorrow night. You may as well take advantage of it.” 

“Only if you’re gonna come to bed with me,” he says, looking up at him with a grin as the kettle goes off. He sighs as he peels himself away from Ashton, missing his warmth as he makes his way back into the kitchen, opening up the tea cabinet. “What kind d’you want?” 

“Whatever you’re having is fine with me,” he says, looking over to him. “I _will_ come to bed too if it means that you’re going to get some actual sleep and not spend the entire time trying to get me off.”

“Two cups of sleepytime then,” he hums as he pulls the box from the cupboard. “Also, you have to let me get you off at least once today. You know I need my daily dose of Ashton.” Ashton rolls his eyes as Luke puts their bags in their cups and pours in the scalding water, letting it steep for a few minutes as he leans against the breakfast bar. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. Like you’re going to say no to me sucking you off?” 

“You’re so crude sometimes, babe, you know that, right?” Ashton says, sliding his bookmark into the book and placing it on the coffee table. Luke just smiles at him from across their apartment, face resting in his hands.

“It’s what you love about me,” he says with a shrug. “Other than my absolutely stellar cock sucking skills.” Ashton has half a mind to pick the book back up and throw it at Luke and his smug face. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Luke,” he sighs, and Luke laughs in response, turning to pull out the tea bags and return to the couch with the mugs of tea, setting them down on the table. “Thanks, love.” Luke smiles at the praise, leaning over and kissing Ashton on the cheek.

“You can thank me when I’m done getting you off,” he hums, hands instinctively heading towards the button of Ashton’s pants. He lets out a groan of almost defiance, but lets Luke at it anyways, knowing you don’t say no to him. 

Their tea goes cold on the table.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

3)

“Where are we going again?” 

Luke and Ashton are trailing behind Michael, who’s the one leading the way to their destination tonight. Apparently, one of his favorite artists was playing some underground show, and he didn’t want to go alone since none of his computer science friends wanted to go with him. So he somehow managed to coax Luke and Ashton into going with him under the premise of free drinks. 

“It’s called Apothecary,” he says, looking back at them over his shoulder. “It’s a hush hush underground place. I’ve been there a couple of times with some of my other friends, it’s pretty cool. They serve their drinks in like, beakers and test tubes and stuff. It’s pretty cool.” Ashton and Luke exchange a skeptical look, Ashton shaking his head a little bit as they follow Michael down the street.

“You know, as long as I can get absolutely wasted, I don’t even care,” Luke sighs, stretching his arms over his head. It’s not often they all get to go out, and he’s traded his comfortable sweaters and slacks for his ‘going out’ clothes, consisting of a silk shirt and leather pants. Ashton had rolled his eyes at him when he came out sporting them with a grin, and Luke had insisted he wasn’t going to find anyone to sleep with in an underground bar dressed like an english professor. (He was probably right.) 

“Which is exactly why I’m bringing you two with me,” Michael says with a grin, stopping in front of the hole in the wall entrance that seemed to lead to the bar. They all exchanged a look with each other before Michael stepped through the doorway, Luke and Ashton following hesitantly. 

They follow him down a staircase and there’s a bouncer by the door who checks their IDs before letting them in through the door. The bar is all dim green and purple lighting, the air heavy with a buzz as the show that Michael’s there for is being set up. Michael turns to look at them, grinning a little bit as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

“Go find us a table and I’ll get us some drinks,” he says, gesturing towards the bar. Luke just grins and takes Ashton’s hand without hesitation before tugging him along through the bar. They move through the crowds of people, finally spotting an empty table and Luke slides into it easily, Ashton following him into the booth. 

“This place is pretty fucking cool, you have to admit,” Luke says, leaning against the table a little bit as he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. “Maybe we’ll have to come back to celebrate after we get our dissertations done and have our doctorates.” 

“I’m pretty sure I would much rather go to any other bar, Luke,” Ashton chuckles, pulling his phone out. “How long do you think it’ll be before you set your sights on someone for the night, huh?” Luke shrugs a little bit, lighting up as Michael makes his way over to the table with their three drinks in his hands. 

“Alright, whisky on the rocks for Ashton,” he says, setting the glass down in front of him with a little bit of a grin, “and a mango margarita for my favorite slut.” He slides the margarita in front of Luke, who beams up at him as he takes a sip. Michael slides in next to him, effectively sandwiching him so he can’t run off too soon as he takes a sip of his beer. 

“Beer, Mike? Really?” Luke makes a face at him as he holds his margarita in his hands. “God, could you seem any more heterosexual?” Michael laughs a little bit and Luke pouts at him, looking over at Ashton. “Can you believe the audacity of him, Ash? Drinking beer in my presence? It should be a crime.” 

“Luke, let the man drink his beer,” Ashton says gently, taking a sip of his whisky and sighing with content. “While it does fucking suck ass, let him enjoy his terrible overpriced barley water.” 

“Only you can successfully support me and then drag me through the mud in one go, Ashton,” Michael sighs as he sips at his beer. Ashton supplies him with a grin from across the table, and Luke hums contentedly as he’s sandwiched between his two favorite people. 

“Man, why don’t we do this more often?” Luke asks, sitting back into the fabric of the booth seat. “The three of us, some drinks, me in the middle… It’s, like. my favorite fantasy.” Michael nearly spits out his beer at the calm way Luke says the words. “Being between any two men will do, but my two favorite men? A blessing.” 

“Just drink your margarita, Luke,” Ashton laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. He pouts a little bit but obliges, sipping at the fruity drink. “What kind of artist is it you’re seeing tonight anyways, Mike?” 

“Oh, he does EDM,” Michael says with a shrug. “I didn’t think that Luke would mind dancey music, and I know that you would rather come out with us than stay at home alone.” Ashton sighs a little bit but nods in agreement, downing the rest of his whisky as he thinks about the headache he’ll be nursing later (and not induced by the alcohol).

“I’m going to get another drink,” he says with a shake of his head, and Luke downs the rest of his in one go as well. 

“Let me go get them, my treat!” he says with a grin. Ashton gives him an incredulous look, but Luke pouts at him a little bit. “Please, Ash?”

“Fine, but only because I know if I don’t you’ll whine about it,” he says with a shake of his head. Luke just grins at him a little bit as Ashton moves to let Luke out, and Luke presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek as he makes his way up to the bar. He’s maybe a little bit of a lightweight, but no one needs to know that other than Ashton and Michael. 

He makes his way up to the bar, grinning excitedly as he leans against the bartop. He waves to the bartender, whose back is turned to him, and when he turns around, Luke’s heart drops into his stomach as he immediately recognizes him. Luke’s hoping that his outfit and lack of glasses will throw the man off, but it doesn’t seem to as he immediately scowls when he sees him. He sighs as he makes his way over to Luke, barcloth tossed over his shoulder.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he says, voice short with him as Luke huffs, blowing blond curls out of his eyes with his breath. “What can I get you, pretty boy?” Luke feels himself flush at the comment, chewing on his bottom lip. 

“A mango margarita and Maker’s Mark on the rocks, for me and my friend,” he says, trying his hardest not to check him out. He’s not wearing his leather jacket today, and his arms are covered in tattoos, something that makes him twice as intriguing to Luke. The stranger chuckles a little bit as he gets started on the drinks for him. 

“Let me guess, the margarita is for you,” he asks with a cocked eyebrow. Luke pouts a little bit, and he laughs. Luke thinks he’d like to bottle up this stranger’s laugh and keep it with him forever. “That’s all the answer I needed.” He finishes shaking up his margarita and pours it into the glass for him, grabbing a second cup with some ice and pouring 2 shots worth of Maker’s into it. 

“How much is it?” Luke asks, pulling out his wallet. 

“Sixteen,” he says, pushing the drinks towards him, and Luke slides a 20 across the bar for him. 

“You can keep the change,” he says softly as he grabs the drinks and makes his way back to the table in a rush. 

He sighs as he sits back down, handing Ashton his drink, and he and Michael look at one another and then back to Luke’s flushed face as he takes a sip of his margarita. 

“You doing okay?” Ashton asks, placing a hand on Luke’s shoulder. Luke looks over to him and sighs dramatically. 

“No, I’m not okay!” he huffs. “The bartender at the bar is Leather Jacket guy! And he was judging me for getting a margarita! My whole night has been ruined.” Michael cocks an eyebrow at him, looking back over at the bar then back to Luke. 

“Oh, you mean Calum Hood is your Leather Jacket guy?” he asks, taking a swig of his beer. Luke looks at him like his eyes are going to pop out of his head.

“You know who Leather Jacket guy is!” he hisses. “Give me the tea! I need to know who this man is!” 

“I can’t believe you haven’t heard about him, people have been gossiping about him for weeks in the library,” Michael says with a shrug. “He got expelled not that long ago from his program because he was sleeping with his professor. They fired the professor too. I think he was a Theoretical Physics and Stats PHD candidate, if my memory serves me right.” Luke stares at him dumbfounded, taking another sip of his drink. 

“Well shit,” he says. “No wonder why he’s such an asshole.” They all laugh about it, but Luke can’t help his eyes continuing to wander over to so-called Calum Hood, thinking about how he’d called him a pretty boy. 

That was going to be material for him for weeks.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

4)

It was raining again, and honestly, Luke was starting to get tired of it. 

It was a slow day in the bookstore, as usual, and Luke spent the time stocking what little stock they had gotten in, and listening to another audiobook for class. He only kept one ear bud in this time, having learned his lesson from the last time when he walked straight into the man who was allegedly known as Calum Hood. 

Ever since he’d found out about him, he’d been quietly investigating him on social media. He wasn’t huge on it personally, only using it to keep in touch with his family who would murder him if he didn’t, but it was always helpful in these kinds of situations. 

He found out that Calum was, indeed, incredibly intelligent. Which came to no surprise — you don’t get into Columbia on a PHD candidacy if you’re not at least a little bit smart. But while Luke was smart in the sense that he could read a passage of a book and analyze it without putting a second thought to it, Calum was smart in the way that he could probably invent time travel or something (Luke knew nothing about physics or statistics, that was just his first assumption). 

Thoughts of him consumed his mind to a ridiculous degree — he just wanted to try him on for size, see how he felt. He knew the inner workings of Michael, of Ashton, of a handful of other men he knew at school (but if you asked him to name them all, you’d find that he probably couldn’t.) Calum intrigued him, between the tattoos he’d seen at the bar, to his leather jacket and aloof attitude, to the mystery that came with why he was sleeping with his teacher. It’s not like he wasn’t smart, Luke could glean that much from what little he could see on his Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter accounts. So what motive did he have?

These were the kind of things that Luke thought about for the rest of his afternoon. If Luke was good at anything at all, it was analyzing situations. People weren’t so different from books at times, it seemed, so it didn’t seem like too far of a stretch for him to analyze him and try to piece everything together. 

Before he knows it, it’s 4, and his replacement is coming in to relieve him. Which is good, because Luke has a paper and a chunk of his dissertation to work on, and he needs a distraction from all things Calum Hood that have been running through his brain. 

Since he has so much work to do, he figures it would be a good idea for him to stop and get some coffee. It’ll lift the chill from his bones from the rainy, cold day they’re having outside (or it would if he would get anything but iced coffee), and it’ll keep him alert to work for at least a couple of hours. Seeing as though he was back to getting 3 hours a night and Ashton had started to get worried about him again. it’s not like he can stop having a large load of homework or stop working at his job — he doesn’t have an inheritance like Ashton does. He can’t afford to sit around and do homework and read books all the time (as much as he would love to). 

So he walks into the coffee shop across the street from his work, pulling his glasses off of his nose to wipe the condensation off of them before heading to the counter. The girl behind the counter smiles at him, recognizing him immediately. He’s here a lot since it’s so close to work — all the baristas recognize him by now. 

“Your usual, Lu?” she asks, already ringing it in. He nods a little bit, brushing damp golden curls out of his face with a little bit of a nod. “Anything else?” 

“Since I can’t bring your cute face home with me, Emily, just the coffee will do,” he teases, and the barista flushes the same shade of pink as her hair is. 

“You know, Lu, if you keep flirting with me like that, my girlfriend might get jealous,” she laughs a little bit, holding her hand out for his card. He hands it to her easily with a light laugh, lips upturned into the slightest of smirks. 

“She can join us too, no need to be shy,” he says with a little bit of a shrug. Emily laughs it off a little bit, handing him back his card. “Offer’s always on the table, love.” 

“I’ll keep it in mind, lover boy,” she says with a wave of her hand. “You know the drill.” He winks at her before heading down to wait for his drink, pulling his phone out to let Ashton know he’d be home soon. He scratches aimlessly at his chin, the beard he’s been working on for weeks coarse against his fingers, and he looks up to see Emily admiring him quietly. He chuckles to himself, attention perking up when the other barista calls out the drink. 

“Large iced vanilla mocha,” they call out. Luke sighs with contentment, hand reaching for the cup only for another hand to grab for it too. He furrows his brow, looking over to see no one other than Calum Hood, his hand also wrapped around the drink. They stand there for a moment, dumbfounded as they try to figure out what is happening here. 

“We just seem to keep running into each other,” Calum says, scowling a little bit at the sight of Luke, pulling his hand back. Luke already misses the feeling of their hands brushing against one another, the electricity he felt when they touched. “Can’t you ever get out of my fucking hair?” Luke just shrugs a little, trying to pretend not to be hurt. 

“Well, maybe you should stop having such good taste, then,” Luke finally offers, looking at him. His blue eyes meet Calum’s browns, swirling with a range of emotions, and Luke wants nothing more than to study him like he’s a piece of classic literature. “Coming to the book store I work at, being at the club I'm going to with my friends, getting the same coffee as me at my favorite coffee shop? Just seems like good taste to me.” Calum scowls at him again. 

“As long as you don’t spill it all over me again,” he retorts, and the other barista working comes back with another iced coffee. 

“This one’s yours, Lu,” he says, looking skeptically between the two men who look like they’re about to start a fight in the middle of a coffee shop. Luke lets go of the coffee that happens to be Calum’s, grabbing his own cup that has his name written on it in Emily’s handwriting with a little heart at the end. 

“Thank you,” Luke says to the barista, picking up his coffee and taking a sip. “Don’t spill your coffee there, _Calum_.” He gives him a once over as Calum looks at him, confused, before Luke makes his way back out into the rain.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

“God, I can’t believe I have the same coffee order as that prick.” Luke sets his almost empty coffee cup down on the table in the library, sitting back in his chair a little bit. Michael is sitting next to him -- it’s a Sunday, so the library is closed, but Michael loves him so he opened it up for him so he could use the resources available to work on his dissertation.

“Are you ever going to shut up about him?” Michael asks with a little bit of a laugh, sitting back in his chair. “I feel like you need to just go up to him, ask him for a quick hate fuck -- purely for scientific reasons -- and then be done with it.”

“If only it were so simple, innocent Michael,” he says with a dramatic sigh, patting him on the back before turning back to one of the books on his left. “I would love to be able to just walk up to him and say, ‘Hey, you’re hot, I’m hot, let’s fuck around’, but one: I’m still not sure if he swings both ways, and two: he absolutely loathes me, Mike. There’s no way he’s going to get anywhere near me with that delicious looking body of his.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him making out with boys before, but suit yourself,” Michael shrugs, popping a sour patch kid into his mouth. “How long are you going to be? I have to go meet up with someone to help them with a project in a half an hour.” 

“You know I’m going to be longer than that, Mike,” he says with a laugh. “Just leave me the key, I’ll lock up and drop it off at yours when I’m all done. Maybe we can drop something else, too.” He looks at Michael’s pants before looking back up at him with a devilish grin. 

“You know, I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to how over the top you are, Luke,” he says with a shake of his head, taking the ring for the library key off of his keys. “Do not let anyone else in and don’t tell anyone, okay? I don’t want to get fired for fuck’s sake.” Luke just smiles at him.

“It’ll be our dirty little secret, Mikey!” he says with a grin. Michael rolls his eyes as he flips him off and heads for the door, and Luke blows him a kiss. He sighs as he turns back to his work, trying to focus on the task at hand and not at how warm Calum’s hand had felt when it touched his own and imagining it in other places. 

(And when Luke brought Michael back the key at 1 in the morning and then went down on him, that definitely got the thought out of his head too.)

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

5)

He’s almost done it. 

After years of classes, and papers, and millions of pages of books read, he’s finally just one semester away from being finished. 

Luke just turned in the last of his assignments for this semester, and that in itself was cause for celebration. It technically wasn’t even all due till next week, but he put the pedal to the metal and finished it all up ahead of schedule so he could have time to breathe and continue to work on his dissertation, which was due at the end of his next semester. 

So, as one does when they are celebrating, they go out to a bar to get absolutely wasted. 

Michael and Ashton were both still busy finishing up their own things in the library, so Luke had to go alone. Luke hated going to the bar alone, but at least the atmosphere of the bar would be a stark difference to that of sitting in his apartment alone doing shots of tequila. 

So he goes to the bar that’s walking distance from the apartment, so if he gets too drunk at least he can call Ashton to walk him home. He’s going to try to control himself, he is, but he’s so fucking excited to almost be done with his degree that he could scream. 

He’s probably on his third margarita when someone comes in and sits down next to him, waving their hand to the bartender, garnering their attention. 

“Can I get a whole pitcher of sangria, please?” he asks, and the voice is familiar to Luke. He turns as the bartender brings what he asked for over and almost drops his margarita on the floor when he sees it’s Calum sitting next to him. Luke turns back to face frontwards, taking a shaky sip of his drink. Maybe he’s the one who needs a whole pitcher of sangria. “Where’s all your friends?” 

Luke turns and blinks at Calum, who’s currently sipping at his glass of freshly poured sangria. He looks around, wondering if he could possibly be talking to someone, anyone else. Calum just gives him a pointed look, tired but inquisitive. Luke wonders why he hasn’t been stabbed by him yet if he’s being honest. 

“Finishing up their work for the end of the semester,” he answers, finishing off his margarita. “What about yours? They on the way?” Calum lets out a laugh, shaking his head as he finishes his glass and starts on the next one. 

“Cute of you to think that I have friends,” he hums, taking a sip of his new glass. “This is all for me.” He grins around his glass a little bit. “So what, you’re just out here, getting drunk all by yourself? That seems like a rather drab Friday night for a pretty boy like you.” Luke tries his hardest not to flush at the comment, fingers tapping anxiously against his empty glass. 

“Seems like you’re doing the same thing there,” Luke notates, waving to the bartender for another drink. “I didn’t have anyone to come with me, and being in a bar is better than doing shots alone in my living room.” He smiles at the bartender when she brings him a new margarita, already feeling the alcohol influencing him. “What about you? I’m sure you have _someone_ to spend your time with.” He tries to bite it back before adding, “also, glad to see that I was right about you not being straight.” 

Calum laughs a little bit at the unfiltered way Luke talks to him, going through his pitcher of sangria like it’s going out of style to feel something other than the wallowing self pity he’s feeling for himself now. “No, I don’t have anyone,” he laughs softly. “All my friends stopped talking to me when I got kicked out. I was left high and dry by the one person I thought I trusted. I am miserably alone.” He gives Luke a wistful smile as he finishes off his cup. “And yet here you are, after I've been a dick to you every single time we’ve run into one another, and you’re still willing to give me the time of day. How fascinating.” 

“How could I be mean to you when you look like that?” Luke offers, what little of a filter he has left having left his body. “I mean, you’re fucking gorgeous. So what if you’ve had a shitty year, doesn’t mean you should give up, you know? I mean, I can tell you that I’ve been daydreaming about you since we met.” Luke hopes he doesn’t remember any of this conversation tomorrow, because boy is he going to be regretting it. 

“Really now,” Calum asks, reaching over and tilting Luke’s bearded chin up towards him. “And what is it that you thought about, pretty boy?” Luke’s breath hitches in his throat as he swallows, face to face with Calum as he looks at him. His hand is strong and warm on his chin, and all the dirty thoughts he’s been having for the last few weeks have come flooding back to him. 

“Um,” he stammers, his hand coming up to grip at the bar top to remind himself that this isn’t a dream. “Most recently your hands. Thinking about where I'd like them after we touched at the coffee shop.” His eyes are wide as he looks at Calum, sitting stoic and still as he smirks a little bit down at Luke. 

“And what did you think about them doing?” he asks, the hand not on Luke’s chin settling on Luke’s thigh. Luke feels like his entire body is on fire, with both of Calum’s hands on him like that. He’s trying to form a coherent sentence, looking up at him. He knows he’s drunk, and Calum’s already had almost enough sangria for half of a sorority. Neither one of them is thinking clearly. But for the first time since they met, they were on the same page. 

“Everything,” Luke says, biting his bottom lip into his mouth as he keeps eye contact with Calum. “I also thought about your mouth… about how the rest of your body must look after I saw you without your jacket on… God, I had _dreams_ about you…” Luke’s gaze flutters downwards and Calum’s grip on his chin tightens, causing him to look back up at him. 

“Only one way to make your dreams a reality then, huh, pretty boy,” he says with a smirk, thumb teasing over Luke’s bottom lip. Luke’s mouth parts instinctually, the feeling of Calum’s finger against his mouth the best thing he’s felt all month. He pulls it back before leaning in and kissing Luke fully on the mouth. 

Luke has kissed lots of people in his lifetime. Boys, girls, and anyone in between. He’s had lots of experience with kissing different people. But this kiss, with Calum, was on an entirely different plane. He felt as though there was fire coursing through his veins, and he knew that it wasn’t because of the alcohol. It was a different kind of feeling, more passionate, more wanting than any other kiss he’s ever shared with someone. 

Calum pulls back after a beat, eyes fluttering open to meet Luke’s, and Luke knows he needs to have more. 

“I live about a 5 minute walk from here, do you wanna go back to mine?” Luke asks, licking his lips and tasting the remnants of Calum there. 

“That sounds like the perfect fucking plan,” Calum grins, and he slides off of his chair. Luke leaves a large bill on the counter for the bartender to cover them both, and he’s tugging Calum out of the door with him within minutes.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Luke isn’t entirely sure how they get from point a to point b, but before he knows it, they’re in the living room of his apartment. He thanks whatever entities are at play that Ashton is at the library with Michael still, working on homework instead of sitting on the couch with a book in his hands. (Not that Ashton would have judged him or stopped him, but he’s glad that now, when he’s finally getting his hands on Calum, he can be alone.)

The night is a drunken, muddled blur, and Luke can only remember bits and pieces of it once they enter the kitchen. Pulling Calum down the hallway to his bedroom and losing all of their clothes in the mad dash for the bed. The way Calum called him ‘pretty boy’ in his ear, so delicious and seductive it made his toes curl. The feeling of Calum’s mouth moving over his skin as he leaves a trail of marks down his body. The weight of him on his tongue when he went down on him, and the litany of curses and moans that fell off of his tongue, along with the way that he tugged on his blond curls, just on the borderline of too rough (but Luke didn’t mind). The way Calum’s fingers felt as he slowly worked him open, calling him pet names as he fisted his hand around his cock and teased him while he got him prepared. They way it felt when he finally fucked him, glorious as Luke moaned Calum’s name while he came with him inside of him, and the way Calum moaned his name against his neck when he came as well, just a beat after.

He doesn’t remember much after that at all, just some gentle touches before everything goes dark, passing out from a mixture of alcohol and post coital bliss.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

When Luke wakes up the next morning, everything hurts. His body hurts, his head hurts, everything. Most of it hurts in the good way, the kind of way after you’ve had a really great night of sex. Luke rolls over to see Calum still asleep in the bed next to him and catastrophizes quietly for a few moments. He pulls himself back together, pulling on his underwear (he thinks) as he quietly makes his way out to the living room.

Ashton is there, reading on the couch, and he looks up when Luke tiptoes out of the bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind him. 

“Who’s in there,” Ashton asks nonchalantly, not even looking up at Luke. Luke swallows as he pulls the aspirin out of the cabinet and fills a glass with water. 

“Calum,” he says quietly, taking the aspirin with the water and leaning against the counter. “It’s Calum.” Ashton looks up and tilts his head a little bit, looking Luke over. 

“You are absolutely covered in marks, I hope you know that,” he says quietly, and Luke looks panicked for a moment before he makes his way into the bathroom to look at himself in the full length mirror. He was right -- his whole body was littered in little bites and bruises from their love affair, small proofs that he did indeed finally sleep with Calum Hood after all these weeks. 

“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath. He was going to strictly be wearing turtlenecks for the next week or so, he thinks to himself. He hears the bedroom door open, and Calum comes out, clothes already back on as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. He takes one look at Luke and an almost horror overtakes him, and that makes Luke’s face fall. 

“I need to go,” he says. “Uh, thanks for… last night.” 

“Don’t you want to stay for breakfast?” Luke manages, feeling small as he looks at Calum and the look of horror that he’s still poorly concealing on his face. 

“No, no, this was… this was a mistake. I’m sorry, but I have to go.” Calum makes his way out the door, and Luke hovers in the doorway of the bathroom as Ashton watches Luke’s heart break for the first time.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

+1)

A few weeks go by after that, and Luke isn’t the same.

Michael and Ashton are worried about him, truly. He’s stopped making any kinds of jokes or advances towards them, he spends all of his time working on his dissertation or at work. Ashton thinks he may not be sleeping based on the bags under his eyes every time he comes out to the kitchen for something. He always gently asks him if he’s okay, if he needs anything, to which Luke always replies “I’m fine” and goes back to his room. 

It’s because Luke can’t get Calum Hood out of his fucking head. 

Every time he closes his eyes, tries to rest, tries to do anything at all, the ghost of his touch haunts him. The bruises have faded from their one night escapade, but that doesn’t mean that Luke doesn’t still feel them there, still sense a ghost of their presence. 

He hasn’t wanted anyone to touch him or to touch anyone else in weeks. He can’t get his mind off of Calum, so distracting himself with his roommate or his best friend wouldn’t do the trick. No, that would be too easy, too simple. 

So he works on his dissertation. He goes to work and stocks the shelves. He goes to his coffee shop across the street, hoping to see him there, but he never does. He just gets concerned questions from Emily about how he needs to stop working so fucking hard all the time. If only she knew, he thinks to himself. 

It goes on for about a month. Luke’s hopeless at this point. He feels a little bit like a machine, like he’s on autopilot for his days, and classes are about to start back up, which is going to make everything worse for him. Sure, having a schedule is good, but disrupting the one he’s on now could make him go sideways (at least, more so than he already had.)

He’s sitting at the coffee shop, working on his paper and sipping on a coffee. He needed a change of scenery, to not get the looks and the questions from Ashton about how he was doing. No, what he needed was to be left alone. He didn’t want to be looked at like he was broken. He just wanted to feel okay again. 

His phone goes off, and he sighs, knowing it has to be from either Michael or Ashton. Checking up on him, seeing where he is, if he needs anything. He loves them to fucking pieces, but they’re worse than helicopter parents. The one good thing that Luke thinks has come out of this is how close Michael and Ashton have gotten. He thinks they don’t know he sees the way they look at each other, touch a little too long, kiss each other goodbye when they think he isn’t there to see. He knows what’s going on, and he’s happy for them. At least someone gets to be happy amongst the rubble of his chaos. 

The number on his phone, however, is not one saved to his contacts. He opens it, and nearly drops his phone on the floor when he reads the text. 

_Hey, it’s Calum, got your number from your roommate. Are you home?_

His hands are shaking a little bit, and he has to pull himself together and take a deep breath. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. He can do this. It’s just a text. It’s been a month, and it’s just a text. What could possibly go wrong if he texted him back?

All kinds of things could go wrong, his mind supplies, the anxiety and depression and fear of rejection that had seeped into his brain and made it so hard for him to do anything for the last month. Anything could go wrong. But on the other hand… Luke had nothing left to lose. So he breathes a few more times before picking his phone up and replying. 

_No, I’m not. Why?_

That seemed like a sufficient enough reply as he sets his phone down and tries to focus on his work again. His phone goes off alarmingly fast, however, and he’s a little surprised. He picks his phone back up.

 _Can you meet me there? I need to talk to you._

There it is. The dreaded text. Was something wrong? Did something happen that Luke couldn’t remember? Did one of them _catch_ something from the other? His head is spinning, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he passed out at the table. He breathes again, trying to calm himself down as he shuts his laptop and shoves it into his bag. 

_Sure, be there in 10._

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Luke isn’t sure what to expect when he arrives back at his building. It doesn’t seem that Calum is anywhere in sight, and that sends a surge of relief through him as he pulls his phone back out. He hasn’t gotten another text yet from Calum, so he’s unsure if maybe he’s on his way there, or if he’s gotten his hopes up again for absolutely no reason.

He’s certain that if it’s the latter, he’s going to find him and kick him in the balls so hard that he’ll never be able to have pleasurable sex with anyone ever again. 

He sits himself on the staircase, sighing as he scrolls through social media just for something to keep his brain occupied long enough to distract him until he gets another text or he gets too cold to wait outside any longer. It’s January in New York, after all. It’s not like it’s a balmy 70 out. 

“Luke?” he hears a voice say, timid and familiar, and Luke feels his heart racing in his chest as he pinpoints where it’s from. He looks up from his phone and sees Calum coming down the street, the most ridiculous bouquet of flowers in his arms that he’s ever seen, and Luke’s blushing like he’s a teenager all over again. He certainly hopes that they’re for him, otherwise he’s going to be even more embarrassed than he already is. 

“Calum,” he replies, keeping his voice steady as he shoves his phone into his pocket, scratching at his chin a little bit. He needs to shave, he thinks to himself. Calum looks worse for wear himself, and he wonders, for a moment, if Calum has been as hung up on him as Luke had been on him. He shifts nervously between his feet as Calum approaches him, stopping at the bottom of the staircase. 

“I’m sorry,” is what comes out of his mouth first, and Luke is prepared to forgive and forget right there and kiss him on the mouth. “I’m sorry that I hurt you. I took advantage of you, I hurt you, and I’m so fucking sorry.” He kicks at some gravel on the sidewalk with his beat up sneaker. “I’ve been thinking about you ever since that night. You’re all I’ve been thinking about Luke. It’s just… being with people is hard for me. The last person I was with was manipulative and hurt me more than anyone could ever know.” He sighs as he looks up at Luke. “But I have to remember that not everyone is like that. And… I really like you. I have since you ran into me that day on campus.” 

“You hated me,” Luke supplies. “All you were was rude to me until that night at the bar.” Calum shakes his head. 

“I was hurting,” he says with a soft sigh. “I’d just gotten kicked out of school, my whole life was uprooted, and you were the first person I saw after that. I was upset, and I took it out on you. Every time I saw you, I was reminded of that day, and that wasn’t fair to you. But when I saw you that night when I was working, all dressed up and different, I… I couldn’t get you out of my head for a different reason.

“And then we just kept running into each other. I chalked it up to fate, that something was bound to happen between us. And then it did.” There was a pause. “And then I panicked. And I left. And I shouldn’t have. God, Luke, I’ve been so fucking stupid this whole time, and I just… I really just want to kiss you again.” 

Luke takes in everything that Calum’s said, looking him over with a watchful gaze as he crosses his arms over his chest. He makes his way to the bottom of the staircase, looking him in the eyes as he brushes some unruly curls out of Calum’s face.

“Then fucking kiss me, you idiot.” Calum grins and nearly drops the bouquet of flowers in his arms as he pulls Luke in and kisses him fully on the mouth. It’s just as magical as the first time, if not more so, without the inhibition of alcohol running through their veins. Luke sighs as he pulls back after a beat, smiling truly for the first time in a week. 

“I’m so glad I didn’t totally fuck this up,” Calum laughs, a blush on his cheeks as he looks down at the ground. Luke just offers his hand.

“Come on, let’s go upstairs and order some Taco Bell and get those flowers in some water.” Calum smiles at Luke and takes his hand, and for the first time, they both feel complete.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on [tumblr](http://cakelftv.tumblr.com)!


End file.
